


a modern prometheus

by Mallowleaf



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Frankenstein AU, Human AU, Logan is a scientist, Victorian Era AU, the scariest part of this fic is the disregard for the scientific process
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 13:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20908793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallowleaf/pseuds/Mallowleaf
Summary: A large figure was standing at the foot of his bed. It towered above him, head brushing up against the ceiling. The figure noticed Logan’s movements, and it bent down, as if trying to get a closer look at him.Logan’s throat closed up as he recognized the figure for what it was. It was the creature—the one he had left lying in the lab with as much life in it as a rock. And here it was now, eyes an odd yellow color in the half life. Its mouth was twisted up in an odd grimace. It almost looked like it was attempting to smile.“Hello,” He said weakly, fluttering his fingers weakly up at the creature, and then promptly passed out.(OR: logan discovers the secret to life and decides the best course of action is to create his own human)





	a modern prometheus

**Author's Note:**

> chapter warnings: discussions of death, bodies and slight body horror (nothing too explicit, but just things that come with frankenstein),, if you need anything else tagged let me know!!

Logan was, by birth, Genevese. 

This isn’t a particularly important fact, but it does paint a picture into the way Logan was raised. Imagine, if you will, a cottage on a humble piece of land. Beyond the fence that does little to dictate borders, rolling hills slope away as far as the eye can see. To the right, a large lake where Logan spent many a day sailing with his brother, Patton, and his childhood friend, Roman, by his side. Down to the left, a barely paved road that leads into a respectable sized village where everyone knows each other. 

It should be pointed out that in technical terms, Patton was only Logan’s brother by mere association. No blood was shared between the two boys; Patton was brought into the family when Logan was five and Patton was four. Patton had been treated rather cruelly by his aunt, who had been tasked with his upbringing when his mother died, and when Logan’s mother had found out about the situation, she immediately volunteered to take over Patton’s well being. Logan, who was only five and understandably didn’t comprehend the difference between biological and adoption, took Patton under his wing as only an older brother could do. 

He even missed  _ Roman,  _ a fact that took Logan by surprise. Roman had lived in the town nearby Logan’s home, and even to this day Logan still didn’t know how he and Roman became acquainted. From the beginning, Roman was loud and obnoxious. He had gotten into his head that he was a knight, that kind that populate the pages of the fantastical and romantic books he was always reading. He would do his best to rope Patton and Logan into performing plays with him, acting out adventures involving knights and damsels in distress and, often at the request of Patton, dragons. Logan would rather have done a great many other things than play along, but he secretly enjoyed Roman’s talent for weaving stories. 

The time not spent with Roman and Patton (or with his nose deep in a book) was occupied by wandering the fields around the cottage. Nature was something that had always fascinated Logan—he admired the way it was resilient against all odds. Plants died and came back each year, animals ventured into places of danger just to get food. 

Logan loved nature, and he had notebooks filled with notes and observations about anything and everything. 

It’s this love of nature that leads Logan to the works of Cornelius Agrippa, and then later on Paraulus and Albertus Magnus. Each philosopher has their own ideas on what they call “natural science”, and while Logan is sceptical about some of their ideas, he does admit that it’s all rather interesting. 

He asked his father about the philosophers one day. His father took one look at the covers of the books Logan held in his arms, shook his head, and said, “Don’t waste your time on these, Logan. Those books are nothing but trash.” 

What Logan’s father  _ should _ have explained was that Agrippa’s theories had been long since disproven, and that modern science had advanced further than any of the philosophers Logan was reading could ever imagine. But he didn’t say any of that, and so Logan continued to read and absorb every bit of information about natural science that he could. 

He was fifteen when his mother died. The sickness struck out of nowhere, taking his mother in the blink of an eye. Nothing could be done to save her, no matter how hard the doctors tried, and her loss hit the family like a ton of bricks. Logan locked himself in his room for a week, refusing to speak to anyone who came knocking at his door. When he finally emerged from his room, eyes red and puffy, he continued to hold his silence on the matter. 

The death of his mother followed him around wherever he went, unable to be shaken off. 

Two years later, his father sent him off to college. Logan had been going to different schools in Geneva, but his father found the university of Ingolstadt and decided that it could offer Logan the chance to learn about life outside his own little world.

Logan could hardly wait to go.

Patton was excited for Logan, but he couldn’t help but be a little upset as well. He and Logan had always been together as children, and this would be the first time they would be apart for longer than a day. 

“Be sure to write every day,” he told Logan on the day he left for university, clinging to Logan’s hand as if he wanted to make sure that Logan was really there. 

“I will,” Logan promised, squeezing Patton’s hand gently. 

“I expect letters too,” Roman said, hitting Logan on the back in what was supposed to be a friendly gesture, but really just made Logan stumble forward. 

Logan knew for a fact that Roman would be sending him letters comprised of all the “adventures” he and Patton would take in his absence. The thought stung a little, although Logan would never admit to it. He had a reputation to uphold, after all. 

The journey to Ingolstadt was long, and Logan’s only company came in the form of his books and his thoughts. The carriage driver didn’t talk to him at all throughout the trip, much to his disappointment, and so Logan filled his time with writing letters and rereading the books he shoved into his bags before he left. Logan was relieved when he finally saw the buildings that made up the city of Ingolstadt. He was never going to spend that amount of time in a carriage ever again if he could help it. 

As soon as the carriage stopped, Logan was shown into an apartment that his father had rented out for him. It was rather nice, with two rooms—a bedroom and what looked like a sitting room. As soon as he saw it, Logan began to plan out all the ways he could convert the room into a makeshift lab. He wasted no time unpacking and getting to work making the apartment his own. 

The next day, Logan went out to meet the professors he would be studying under. The first one he met was Professor Aisling, who taught natural philosophy. He was a rather laid back man, always with a drink in hand, and the two talked at length. Aisling asked Logan a lot of different questions, such as why Logan was interested in the natural sciences and different works he had read.

It’s during this conversation that Logan casually admit that he’s mostly read Agrippa and the like, rather than the newer works in the scientific world. He didn’t think too much of that, but the statement gave Aisling pause. 

“You’ve really spent your time reading that?” he asked, leaning back slowly in his chair and giving Logan a look of disbelief. 

“Yes?” Logan said, not sure how his reading habits could have confused the man so greatly. 

Aisling rolled his eyes and took a long drink from his mug before answering. “I hope you realized that you wasted your time with those books,” he said matter-of-factly, pinning Logan with a frown. “You could have studied today’s greatest scientific discoveries, and what did you do? Read about a science that has been disproven over and over again.” 

Logan was suddenly reminded of his father, and the disdain he held for those books all those years ago. 

Shaking his head, Aisling scribbled down a list of books and shoved the paper at Logan. “Here. You’ll need to read all of these if you want to be caught up with where we are in class.” And with that, he ushered Logan out of his office and closed the door before Logan can get a word in edgewise. 

Logan decided right then and there that he hates Aisling. The man hardly gave him a chance to defend himself, and his haste to brush aside the philosopher's Logan spent years reading leaves a bad taste in Logan’s mouth. Of course he knew most of those ideas aren’t one hundred percent scientifically sound, but Aisling made it seem like Logan was stupid for reading them. 

There’s another professor of natural science, Professor Picani, but Logan doesn’t get the chance to meet him before classes start. The first time he sees Picani is during a lecture. Logan doesn’t expect much - he’s still skeptical after the way Aisling acted, but he’s willing to at least give Picani a try. 

The first thing that Logan noticed about Picani is that he was so excited about  _ everything.  _ He all but bounced into the room and gifted every single person sitting down with a dazzling grin. He started off with a warm welcome, as if they were already close friends, and then launched into his lecture. It’s mostly an overview of modern natural science, with terms and explanations, but it’s the end of the lecture that draws Logan’s attention. 

“Science,” Picani said, hands waving animatedly, “is a constantly changing field. We know things today that scientists years ago could never have dreamed of! Every day is an opportunity for growth! And we have to remember that without the philosophers and scientists of the past, we never would have been able to reach the levels of knowledge that we have today.” 

After hearing Picani talk so enthusiastically about the philosophers that Aisling had flatly insulted, Logan started to feel much better about his place at the college. After the lecture, he went up and introduced himself to Picani. 

They go through the same questions Aisling asked, with Logan telling Picani why he’s studying natural science and the like. But when Picani hears about what Logan had read in the past, he seemed delighted to learn that Logan was so familiar with Agrippa.

“They’re the reason we can do what we do today, you know,” he said, inviting Logan into his office. It’s a warm and inviting place, walls painted a cheery color and bookshelves stuffed to the brim. “They laid the groundworks and let us study the world more in-depth.” 

Logan felt like a weight was being lifted off of his shoulders. He began to ask questions about Picani’s lectures and if Picani has any books he recommends Logan read to help him in his studies? 

Pushing a cup of tea into Logan’s hands, Pianci beamed at him. He seemed happy to answer all of Logan’s questions. He got slightly sidetracked when he began to ramble on about all of his favorite books, and he makes Logan a list as he goes along. He also took Logan into the lab right off his office and gave him a tour, pointing out each instrument and explaining their uses. Logan took it all in with wide eyes and tried to commit everything to memory. 

The night left Logan with a lengthy list of books to read and an open invitation to Picani’s office if he ever needs anything. “You’re going to do great!” Picini promised him when Logan leaves. 

The semester started soon after, and Logan threw himself into his studies with fervor. His days bled into his nights, and all his time became consumed by his studies. 

When he managed to pull himself away from his work, he wrote letters to Patton and Roman. They’re usually just responses to whatever they sent him previously. Logan’s letters could be longer; he writes brief overviews of his work and answers any questions they send his way, but that’s about it. Sometimes he feels guilty, like he’s neglecting them, but then he’ll get distracted and that particular worry gets pushed to the back of his mind. 

He kept every letter he gets. Patton’s detail each daily activity, from the walks he took into town to the latest thing he baked. Roman’s are filled with stories he would normally have Logan act out with him; Roman seemed to be determined that the distance between them isn’t stopping Logan from having to hear about his latest fantasy. 

Whenever Logan felt lonely or discouraged, he pulled out the letters and read them over and over again until he feels better.

It was sometime later during his studies that Logan became interested in the human body. Anatomy in itself is a complex science, but the question that plagues Logan’s mind is the idea of life. 

What causes life? What exactly lead living things to breathe, to walk around and have ideas of their own? 

It’s something that scientists and philosophers had questioned for as long as the world existed, but no one had ever found the answer. It’s one of the greatest mysteries of nature, and most people have accepted it at face value, not bothering to wonder too deeply why exactly it occurred.

Logan wasn’t one to let things lie, and he’d be damned if he let the question go unanswered. 

Of course, before he can really determine what caused life, he had to understand what takes it away. Anatomy became his newest area of study. He frequented mortuaries throughout the city and observed exactly how bodies decay over time. 

He doesn’t mention this part of his studies in his letters to Roman and Patton; he knew it would only upset them. They were both fascinated with superstition, stories told in the dark with the intent of sparking fear in the heart of the listener. Logan, on the other hand, never paid any attention to these stories, and so the nature of his work wasn’t clouded by fear. He approached every case with logic and logic alone, not allowing his emotions to get in the way. 

His days were spent in a haze. All his other studies were left to the wayside. What importance were they? Logan was trying to figure out the great mysteries of the universe; essays on different historical figures could wait. 

Logan couldn’t say for sure how long he worked like this, days bleeding into nights with little time for sleep or food, but then it changes. One minute he’s paging through a book Picani had given him, and the next he’s hit with an Idea. 

It’s a capital-I Idea that is so earth shattering that Logan drops everything he’s holding and lunges for his notebook, immediately scribbling it down so that he’ll remember it. 

When everything is said and done, Logan will be asked how he managed to find the answer to the spark of life. And Logan won’t have an answer. It’s only through extreme sleep deprivation and sheer will alone, he’ll say later, that he was able to succeed in his experiment.

But that’s later, when Logan’s had time to reflect. For now, Logan is so entirely convinced of his genius that he’s certain nothing could go wrong. 

Logan’s Idea, in short, is how to bring life to something that dies. Any sane person would recognize the fact that bringing things back from the dead is impossible; it goes against nature and anyone who thinks they can is just kidding themselves. But Logan wasn’t exactly in his right mind, which might explain how he is able to twist the laws of nature to his will without even trying. 

He decided that the best way to go about proving his hypothesis was to create his own body. He  _ could  _ technically find a body to use, but something about that felt wrong. Logan refused to dig up any graves or sneak into any mortuaries to steal a body. He may have been tampering with the fabric of nature, but he had standards. 

So Logan decided that he’ll make his own human. And it’s here that Logan encountered his first problem. 

Human beings are complex, filled with delicate veins and organs that are woven so intrinsically through one another that the slightest mistake could spell disaster. Logan knew all this too well, evidenced from the anatomical maps he spent months hunched over by candlelight. Logan’s hands are sturdy, but he isn’t perfect. 

His solution is to just make a bigger human. This way, he reasoned, everything would be on a bigger scale and there would be less room for error. Did that make any sense? Of course not. But Logan was busy trying to create life itself, and didn’t bother wasting time by wondering if his actions made sense. 

Getting the parts required for the completion of this project was difficult, to say the least. Logan tried his best and tried to keep the parts consistent throughout. It didn’t always work, and Logan learned early on that beggars can’t be choosers. He took what he can get, whenever he can get it, and tried his best not to get caught. 

It’s slow going, but eventually Logan gathered enough supplies to form a fully functioning human body. He kept everything in the back room of his apartment, which he had finished converting into a lab ages ago. The body lay on a table in the middle of the room. 

Logan thought it was beautiful. Most people would disagree. 

It was a dark and stormy night when Logan put the next stage of the plan into action. The body was prepped and all the instruments Logan gathered had been switched on, humming with energy. He himself is scribbling down notes in his notebook, muttering to himself every now and then. Everything had to be perfect. This  _ had _ to work. 

The most important part of the set up was the lightning rod, which was hooked up to the body with wires that run and twist across the floor. Logan set the whole thing up himself, climbing out of the window with armfuls of wires and balancing precariously over the city. Electricity was the key to this whole experiment, and with this device he could harness it to give life to his creation. 

With each strike of lightning, Logan could feel his excitement rising. He was hovering over the edge of a groundbreaking scientific discovery. If he could only prove his theory to be correct, if he could get the body’s heart pumping, he could change history as the world knew it. The world of science would explode and, thanks to him, humans could discover a cure to death.

Logan glanced quickly at the clock mounted on the wall, noting the time. The storm raged around the apartment; at any moment the lightning would strike the rod, and Logan would find out if his calculations were correct. 

Any moment now. 

And then it happens. A bolt of lightning struck the rod in a violent crackle of energy, sending sparks flying into the air. The electricity raced through the wires and into the body. 

It’s like an explosion went off. The body arched up into the air, electricity coursing through its veins. Thunder cracks over the building like a gunshot, rattling the windows with enough force that Logan feared they’d shatter. He cried out, fear and excitement mixing into one another. 

But as soon as it started, it was over. The body sagged back to the table, the blue sparks that had been surrounding it fading away. Silence settled over the lab, heavy and all encompassing. Logan waited with bated breath, wide eyes watching the body and shaking hands clutching his notebook like a lifeline. 

And then the body took in a breath. 

As quickly as he could, Logan flew to the body’s side, notebook abandoned on the floor in his haste. He fumbled for the body’s wrist and pressed down, searching for a pulse. For a moment he couldn’t locate it, and panic started to settle into him. Had he been mistaken about the breath? But then he felt the heartbeat pulse against his fingers and he nearly sobbed with relief. It was weak, only fifty-six beats per minute, but it’s there. It worked. 

“I did it.” He whispered to himself, tears blurring his vision. He created life. He was  _ right. _ He’s dizzy with joy, and his mind began to race, thinking of all the ways he could break this news to the world. 

The body’s ragged breathing drew Logan’s attention back to the present. The breaths were few and far between, and they sounded painful. The body’s eyes seemed to be moving sluggishly beneath the lids. When Logan checked the pulse again, he found that it dropped down to thirty-two beats per minute. 

“Come on,” Logan said, louder now, talking to the body—talking to the new life he’s created. “You can do it. You’re alive! Just keep breathing, come  _ on. _ ” 

He kept talking, alternating between encouragement and outright begging. He needed this to work; he needed this new creature to open its eyes and sit up and prove that Logan was right. Logan talked for the better part of an hour until his voice cracked with overuse, trying his best to keep the creature alive, but it’s no use. The creature’s pulse slips away and its breathing stops altogether. 

Tears slid down Logan’s cheeks, but now for an entirely different reason. He was so  _ close _ . He was right there, had gotten the heart and lungs to start working and then had fallen short. Why did he think he could do this? 

Logan drops the creature’s wrist and stumbleed away from the table. The adrenaline that was driving him for the past few weeks ebbs away, leaving bone weary exhaustion in its place. 

Something had obviously gone wrong, but at the moment Logan had no idea what it could be. He needed to go over his notes, to review every little step in an attempt to find what exactly could have caused this experiment to fail. 

But right now he needed to sleep. 

Collapsing into his bed is a welcome relief. Logan can’t remember the last time he’d gotten a proper night sleep; he’d been so consumed by his experiment that there really wasn’t much time for anything else. 

He’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

Logan wasn’t sure how long he slept. It could have been a few minutes, or several hours. All he knew was that the next time he woke up, light was beginning to filter in through the window, casting the corners of the room into shadow. 

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had forgotten to take his glasses off before he fell asleep, and they hung awkwardly off his face. Adjusting them, he unconsciously glanced around the room—and froze. 

A large figure was standing at the foot of his bed. It towered above him, head brushing up against the ceiling. The figure noticed Logan’s movements, and it bent down, as if trying to get a closer look at him. 

Logan’s throat closed up as he recognized the figure for what it was. It was the creature—the one he had left lying in the lab with as much life in it as a rock. And here it was now, eyes an odd yellow color in the half life. Its mouth was twisted up in an odd grimace. It almost looked like it was attempting to  _ smile _ . 

Logan gaped up at the creature in disbelief. The creature tilted its head and made an odd, garbled noise. 

“Hello,” Logan said weakly, fluttering his fingers weakly up at the creature. 

And then he promptly passed out. 

**Author's Note:**

> *blows kiss up to the sky* for mary shelley 
> 
> happy spooky month guys!! i just read frankenstein this year for the first time, and as soon as i finished i realized that it could make a great sanders sides au (because, as we all know, logan sanders is ten times the man victor frankenstein could ever be) 
> 
> this first chapter is pretty much just setting everything up, but rest assured in the next chapter i will be throwing frankenstein canon out the window and we'll actually meet logan's creation!! 
> 
> this was betaed by the fantastic @nobody-is-evil on tumblr!! my tumblr is @purplepatton - come say hi!!! :D
> 
> hope you enjoyed this chapter!!!


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